


god will have to kill me twice

by seonweonsonyeondan



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Captive Prince Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Dark Fantasy, Eventual Smut, Extremely Dubious Consent, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Master/Slave, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seonweonsonyeondan/pseuds/seonweonsonyeondan
Summary: There was blood matting his hair to his forehead from a wound, but still the fire burned in his eyes. The guards yelled at Changkyun to move back, further away from the chaos but he couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. He felt someone tug on his arm, a voice pleading and yelling for him to move, to get away, and then he finally yielded to their requests.Changkyun stepped away from his throne and towards the rest of his family. But, of course, that was also the moment the slave broke through the guards. He ran directly to Changkyun and knocked the prince to the ground. The slave had somehow figured out a way to wiggle his hands free and now one of them wrapped around Changkyun’s throat.And all Changkyun could think, even if he was about to die, was that this man was the most beautiful creature he laid eyes on.---loosely based off the Captive Prince series





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE take heed of the tags. they'll be updated as the fic progresses but it's going to be a dark one.
> 
> BIG shout out to wekea for betaing this first chapter!! you da best man.

_now_

Prince Changkyun sat on the dias, eyes heavy as he stared out over the room. The emissaries from Jeonjaengteo had returned the night before and the palace had been atwitter with gossip about the gifts they’d brought back. Changkyun knew Prince Zitao had sent a gift for him. He had overheard his valet gossiping with one of the guards. His valet, Minhyuk, had been laying out his clothing for the day when Changkyun heard him tell his personal guard the news.

 _“I heard the Crown Prince chose it specially for His Highness,”_ Minhyuk whispered. Changkyun could see him leaning towards Hyunwoo conspiratorially from his spot in the bathroom. Minhyuk fluttered around the room gathering items like a hummingbird. Hyunwoo just leaned on one of the posts of Changkyun’s bed. _“Jooheony told me he saw it.”_

 _“I thought Prince Zitao wouldn’t send His Highness anything, especially after--”_ Hyunwoo was cut off by Changkyun tripping into the room. He didn’t need to hear any more. Whatever it was, it promised to cause a stir amongst the court.

Consort Jinyoung lead the procession in with little fanfare. Changkyun watched as carts full of expensive fabrics and items were wheeled into the room. In the back was a group of slaves and their guards. Changkyun swallowed the sick feeling in his stomach; he had no power over his kingdom’s slave trade or the power to sway the policy.

Each cart was presented, Consort Jinyoung’s sweet voice ringing through the Great Hall. Changkyun paid no real attention, just trailed the sloping beams of the ceiling with his gaze. He always liked how each of the points where the beams met were different. Each got more ornate the closer it got to the thrones. Changkyun glanced up to where his parents sat, his father stone faced and his mother fanning herself delicately.

On the other side of his father sat the Crown Prince, Changkyun’s older brother. Perfect posture. Perfect son and intelligence. Bred to take over the throne; when their father stepped down, Junmyeon would take over. On the opposite side sat his younger sister. She rested her chin on the heel of her palm. She looked openly bored and Changkyun expected nothing less from Siyeon. Changkyun glanced back to the court, now down to the presentation of slaves for the Royal Harem.

The first group were destined for his parent’s private harem. Changkyun met his sister’s eyes and shared a look. Their harem only grew; Changkyun didn’t know what happened with the older slaves. He didn’t care to know either. The next three were gifts to his brother. After that, a young slave girl was presented to Siyeon. Changkyun had a feeling his would be next.

A group of five soldiers stumbled forward, dragging along Prince Zitao’s gift. A slave, he was told. One of the finest slaves they found and trained. A new toy to keep him complacent and occupied most likely. Changkyun wanted to scoff, but knew the consequences if he did.

“Your Highness,” began Consort Jinyoung, eying the soldiers warily. “May I present the gracious gift from His Royal Highness, Prince Zitao of Jeonjaengteo.” The Consort bowed deeply and extended an arm to the men. Before they formed a tight knit circle around their charge, but now they moved apart.

From the center came a growl, making a shock go down Changkyun’s spine. Between the men stood a man. Changkyun’s eyes raked over his new slave. The slave’s hair was a grey sort of brown, something that was neither one or the other, but still not both. His face was muzzled in a golden mask, as if his teeth were something Changkyun would need to worry about. He was barely dressed; his tunic was more decoration than clothing, which Changkyun supposed was to be expected. He could barely make them out, but he was sure there were decorative scars and tattoos all along the man’s chest. He couldn’t make out the patterns from where he sat, but they looked to be complex.

The slave really didn’t look like much physically, but the need for five men spoke to his strength. He was slight, almost delicate looking. His arms were bound behind his back, but he was still able to make his guards stumble. The golden collar on his neck was thick and when he stretched his neck Changkyun felt a flash of something hot and liquid seep further into his belly.

And then the slave made eye contact with him.

Changkyun sucked in a breath. They were gold, or a color like it. Filled with a hatred and fire Changkyun had never seen in another person before. The slave let out a primal scream before yanking at his chains. The force brought down one of the soldiers and that was enough. Enough for the slave to pull the rest of them down and rush the stage.

The Royal Guards scrambled to form a protective barrier around the royal family. Changkyun faintly heard his mother and sister screaming, his brother and father yelling. He could see his family gathering into a smaller circle, protecting each other. But Changkyun. He just stood from his throne and watched. He couldn’t look away from the wild man who was still pushing his way through the guards.

There was blood matting his hair to his forehead from a wound, but still the fire burned in his eyes. The guards yelled at Changkyun to move back, further away from the chaos but he couldn’t move, didn’t _want_ to move. He felt someone tug on his arm, a voice pleading and yelling for him to move, to get _away_ , and then he finally yielded to their requests.

Changkyun stepped away from his throne and towards the rest of his family. But, of course, that was also the moment the slave broke through the guards. He ran directly to Changkyun and knocked the prince to the ground. The slave had somehow figured out a way to wiggle his hands free and now one of them wrapped around Changkyun’s throat.

And all Changkyun could think, even if he was about to die, was that this man was the most beautiful creature he laid eyes on.

The slave’s hand constricted slowly, eyes determined and never wavering from Changkyun’s. Changkyun held onto the other man’s wrists, but made no real attempt to stop him. There was a challenge in his eyes and they both knew it. _Kill me, if you want._ The only thing Changkyun could see was the face of this slave. He could finally see that beneath that muzzle was a sharp jawline and cheeks that looked so soft. But his eyes. His eyes were Changkyun’s favorite feature.

Black started to ring Changkyun’s vision and he could no longer breathe. His hands twitched around the wrist in his hand. Then. Then the hand was gone, the weight of the slave removed and when Changkyun regained his vision, the slave stood above him. His expression was curious, like Changkyun had passed some sort of test.

The guards grabbed the man and wrestled him to the ground. The slave snarled, but otherwise did not resist. The Head Royal Guard approached, spear poised to end the slave’s life. Changkyun scrambled to his feet and shouted, “Stop! I order you to stop. Put down the spear.”

“Your Highness--”

“That was an _order_ from your prince, Jaehwan. Put down your spear.” Changkyun shook as he spoke. The slave continued to stare openly, curiosity even more apparent on his face. Changkyun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned to Consort Jinyoung and said, “I accept the gift of this slave, as wild and unbroken as he is. It would be rude to slaughter him before I get to play with him, don’t you think?”

The Consort hurried forward and bowed, terror still apparent on his face. “O-of course, Your Highness. We will fashion him into the perfect slave for your wishes, Highness.”

“Good,” Changkyun breathed, eyes flickering back to the restrained man. “I look forward to it.”

***

_then_

Smoke choked Kihyun as he was pulled from his bed, away from the flames. Only minutes before he’d been peacefully resting, trying to ensure that he would have strength for his meeting the next day. Now he struggled against the hands dragging him. Kihyun stared in horror as his room continued to burn.

But it wasn’t just his room burning. All around him the fortress glowed orange and burned as if this wasn’t the most carefully constructed structure in all of Ichoyok. As if his ancestors hadn’t crafted the stone and wood by hand. Hadn’t gone into the mythical volcanos and fought dragons for the obsidian.

Kihyun struggled against the hands holding him by the arms, but they would not loosen their grip. “Let me go! I need to help--It’s my duty--”

Someone kicked Kihyun to his knees, causing him to immediately attempt to throw them. But that was when six men pinned him and tied him down. They didn’t try to muffle his yells. What use was his strength when he had thought he could trust them? Could trust these soldiers he fought alongside with, had trained and grown up with? “What are you doing? Why aren’t you--”

One of them struck Kihyun across the face, his metal studded glove cutting his cheek. He was stunned for a moment, but it was long enough for two of them to lift him into the air. Kihyun’s legs and arms were bound tight with chains and once he was in the air, he resigned himself to his fate.

He yelled and screamed, tears streaming down his face as they carried him out of the burning building, down the well worn stairs. All around them, chaos ensued. People grabbed whatever they could, trying to save what was most valuable. No one paid any attention to him. No one even noticed or heard Kihyun calling out to them. He almost couldn’t believe it. Their leader dragged like a deer carcass and his citizens spared him and his captors not a second glance. Their homes were on fire, there were more important things than a group of soldiers carrying him towards the front gate.

When the group came to the gate, they threw Kihyun to the ground. One of the soldiers struck Kihyun across the back of his head. Kihyun fought against his ties before someone kicked him in the stomach. One of the soldiers crouched next to Kihyun and yanked his head up. Kihyun thought he recognized the voice that growled into his ear, “It’d be better if you stop fighting this. It’s for the best.”

Kihyun’s head smacked into the ground. Whoever spoke to him got up, walking to the gate and swung it open. Kihyun jerked his legs, trying to get them beneath so him at least. His head pounded and everything was blurry, but he needed to break free. One of the soldiers kicked Kihyun and then they pulled him up.

As they approached the open gate, a group of six or seven men entered. Kihyun knew immediately who they were. His eyes scanned their faces, finally landing on the woman standing in the middle of the group. Her eyes never wavered, staring Kihyun down. Kihyun growled and tried to once again to break the chains when he realized who she was.

She broke away from the group to approach Kihyun and the traitors holding him hostage. Because that was what Kihyun was now. A hostage and apparently destined for slavery in the Jeonjaengteo empire.

“Hello, Kihyun. Always a pleasure,” she purred, face expressionless. She scanned Kihyun’s face, his body, appraising him like meat. The man who opened the door walked over and Kihyun felt hope drain from his body. He had the same sharp eyes, same delicate jawline.

“Yoongi.” Yoongi looked at Kihyun. Kihyun jumped forward, straining against the arms and chains and everything that held him back. “Yoongi. Brother. You _can’t_. She’s--”

Yoongi punched him. “I can. And I did, brother.” Yoongi stuffed Kihyun’s mouth full of foul-tasting fabric and snorted at Kihyun’s attempt to bite him. Yoongi continued, “You always were blind to progress. Joohyun will make sure your blindness will be put to good use. Under someone equally useless, I’m sure.”

Kihyun sucked in a breath, but breathing in made the pain in his head double and his vision started to fade more. Someone grabbed his chin, forcing his head down. Yoongi’s voice filled his ears as Kihyun was pushed forward. “There’s nothing you can do, brother. You’ll be where you belong, somewhere far, far away from the land you nearly destroyed.”

Kihyun screamed, sound completely muffled now. He turned his head to Yoongi and did his best to head butt his brother. Yoongi stepped away laughing, hands stuffed into his trousers. “Joohyun, good luck with him. I hope his new master likes a challenge.”

Joohyun smirked slightly as she handed over a pouch to Yoongi. “I know you said you didn’t want money, but I insist. This is the beginning of something wonderful, Scion Yoongi.”

Yoongi snorted, the way he always did. Kihyun’s blood ran cold as he watched his brother, his flesh and _blood_ , thumb through the gold in the pouch. Yoongi cast one final look at Kihyun before he picked up a stone and threw directly at Kihyun’s face.

\---

Kihyun woke up in darkness, still restrained, arms and legs stretched wide and the floor a good foot or so below him. His head still throbbed in pain and his throat burned every time he took a breath. He slowly became aware of his relative nakedness and that his mouth was muzzled. He couldn’t open his mouth more than a couple inches, much to his frustration. Kihyun blinked out the grime from his eyes and tried to figure out his options. The chains were taunt and buried into the stone. The cell didn’t even have a door, the arrogant bastards. Kihyun tested the strength of the chains, annoyed to find them stronger than he expected. He could see other cells, closed off by solid doors with barred windows.

Guards walked lazily back and forth. The only ones who looked relatively attentive were the four standing at the entrance of Kihyun’s cells. Kihyun yanked at his chains again and grunted, daring the guards to get closer. One tapped her partner on the calf with the butt of her kama-yari, motioning to him. Kihyun’s breath came out ragged as he watched the other guard wandered out of the room.

Kihyun blinked, trying to focus. He ran down a list of what he knew: he was now in the training facility of Jeontjaengteo’s infamous Tailor; it was unlikely that he would be able to escape with his current restraints; and, unfortunately, his brother had indeed betrayed him. Bile rose up the back of his throat, burning his esophagus at the memory of Yoongi knocking him out. Of Joohyun saying Yoongi didn’t even want _payment_ for his betrayal.

“So, you’re awake,” Joohyun drawled as she stepped into the cell. Kihyun growled and threw his body towards her. She let out a breathy laugh before gesturing to one of the guards. Kihyun watched as she was handed a long flogger. “You’re not going to be easily broken are you?”

Her boots made barely any sound as she approached. Joohyun never looked away from Kihyun. She stopped, barely a foot from him, face still blank and calculating. Kihyun mustered what he could and spat in her face. It landed on her cheek and Kihyun watched the guards raised their spears. Joohyun wiped off her face. Kihyun panted and rattled his chains.

She was right. He wasn’t going to be broken. Not by her. Not by anyone.

Kihyun ignored the ice that started to run through his veins and just snarled. Joohyun laughed in his face. “Oh, you’re going to be fun. What a shame I won’t be the one to do it.”

Joohyun circled around behind him, fingers trailing along his skin. “I’ll have to break you in a little for where you’re going.” The flogger cracked against Kihyun’s skin. He cried out as she relentlessly continued to strike Kihyun.

Kihyun heard Joohyun tell him, “Don’t worry, you’ll still be the most beautiful slave to grace their court.” He was struck with something, making his head flop forward. The pain radiated out from the back of his head. LIttle white stars flickered across his vision, but nothing could numb the pain of Joohyun’s flogger.

Kihyun passed out, arms numb and blood trickling down his back. It felt like his head was full of cotton. The pain he had when he first woke up was nothing in comparison to this. He knew when he woke up it would only happen again.

Kihyun needed to collect himself. He needed to plan his revenge.

\---

Kihyun didn’t know exactly how long he had been in that awful place, but one day Joohyun came in with two men and a woman. Kihyun warily regarded them. He thought he might recognize one of the men as Heechul, a known servant of Ulleungdo. That permanently mischievous look and sharp nose were distinctive enough for Kihyun to be solidly certain that it was him. The man next to him was shorter and regarded him with unabashed curiosity.

“Is this him? The one His Majesty wants to give to Prince Changkyun?” Heechul stepped forward. Once he was closer, Kihyun watched recognition pass over the man’s face. Kihyun let out a low growl, dropping his head to make his glare more intimidating. Kihyun could see the gears turning in Heechul’s head. A bemused smirk settled on Heechul’s face. “Well, I think our Prince will find him most _pleasing_. Our dear Prince always did like them unconventional, wouldn’t you say Consort?”

The other man wrinkled his nose as he looked over Kihyun. Kihyun didn’t try to hide his aggression. When the Consort leaned in to inspect him, Kihyun snapped his teeth, no matter that he still had a muzzle. It had the desired effect anyway. The thin man jumped back as Heechul laughed at his expression.

“Oh, he’s _perfect_ , Tailor. Changkyun won’t know what to do with him. How delightful.” Heechul patted Joohyun on the back, her face blank but pleased. “Come on, Jinyoung. The Prince needs something to occupy his time. I’d say a pretty, feisty thing to break in is _just_ what he needs.”

“Her Royal Majesty has expressed concerns about His Highness.” The Consort straightened out his robes and glowered at Kihyun. Kihyun snorted a bitter laugh. He was chained to these walls, even had on a muzzle and this man, this servant of one of the more powerful independent kingdoms was terrified of him. Good. “I supposed if you think he will please His Highness, then. I suppose it’s fine.”

Heechul reached out to Kihyun. With a single finger he tilted Kihyun’s chin up, finger resting where the muzzle ended under the bone, so Kihyun couldn’t look away from him. “Our Prince will love you. I’m certain you’ll fulfill all his needs, hm?” Kihyun snarled in response. Something in the man’s expression told Kihyun he meant something other than sex. Heechul let go of Kihyun’s chin and patted his cheek. “You’ll be such a good addition to our little Coop.”

Joohyun led them away, their voices discussing payment for other slaves and Kihyun was left to mull over Heechul’s words. He had heard of the Coop, whispers from his spies and his contacts in the markets. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but Kihyun was certain Heechul knew something.

Kihyun didn’t know exactly when, but much later, Heechul returned. He was clad in all black, soft leather dampening his footsteps. The guards paid no attention to him, letting him walk up to Kihyun without even a second glance. Kihyun rattled his chains. He could yell, but he didn’t know why Heechul was here. And he very much needed to know why Heechul was here.

“So. Kihyun, never thought I’d see you in chains.” Heechul circled him, voice low. “I know you can speak Heunhan, Your Highness. My Hwasan’s a bit rusty, but I could try.” Heechul circled back around until he stood in front of Kihyun. “Come now. I’m only here to help.”

Kihyun snorted and rolled his shoulders back. He regarded Heechul silently for a moment. It couldn’t get much worse. Well, it would, and Kihyun knew it, but. Heechul clearly had information. And as much as Kihyun hated it, he needed information and an ally. “Fine. I know you know who I am. But does your colleague?”

“Jinyoung?” Heechul examined his nails and let out a small giggle. “Bless him, no, Jinyoung has no idea who you are.”

Heechul stepped closer and crouched a bit to examine Kihyun’s tattoos. He tapped on Kihyun’s family brand, right in the middle of his chest. The same brand that was on Yoongi’s back. Kihyun’s blood boiled at the thought. “He knows things, but not much about your people. There are very few people who know exactly how strong your nation is.”

Kihyun felt oddly proud hearing that, but he knew Heechul was holding back. “I’m in chains, Spymaster. Whatever you want from me, it’s unlikely I can give it to you.”

A slow smirk spread over Heechul’s face. “Oh, I don’t want anything. I already got what I wanted.” Heechul leaned against the wall beneath Kihyun’s chains. Kihyun narrowed his eyes and thought about what Heechul just said. He waited for the other man to continue but Heechul just continued to smirk at him. Infuriating.

“And what was it you wanted,” Kihyun finally asked. Heechul clapped his hands together, wide grin on his face. The guards glanced at him now, but with a wave of some gold, they turned back to the hallway. Heechul approached him again.

“You’re here and not in Ichoyok. That means your dear younger brother was successful in his coup. And that’s _exactly_ what I wanted.”

“You--? Did _you_ put him up to it?” Kihyun lunged as well as he could forward, chains clanking. Heechul made no attempt to move. He knew he was safe from Kihyun. Heechul patted Kihyun’s cheek again. When Kihyun got out of these chains he will first destroy Heechul and then Yoongi.

“Oh no, that was all Yoongi’s idea. Clever boy, isn’t he? Selling you off to your biggest rival.” Heechul hooked his fingers in the grating of Kihyun’s muzzle, fingers still not quite close enough to bite them. “No one will know who you are in Ulleungdo. They won’t even know if you speak Heunhan or not. But I know. And I propose an alliance.”

Kihyun snapped his teeth together and that got Heechul to pull his hand away. “I’m quite literally the hand that feeds you now, Highness. I’d listen to my proposal, if I were you.”

“Fine. I don’t trust you and I don’t plan on ever trusting you.” Kihyun relaxed a bit, but still kept a wary eye on Heechul. “What are you proposing?”

“Well,” Heechul began, straightening up. “I’m so glad you’re agreeing. If you work with me, I’ll make sure you get your revenge.”

“I’m listening.” Kihyun knew he was making a deal with a trickster, but he only wanted one thing now: To make Yoongi pay. And he was willing to do whatever it takes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG ASS WARNING FOR PHYSICAL ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.
> 
> if thats something you can't read this might be the time to stop reading this fic. its okay! theres plenty of other things to read instead! it only gets worse from here!
> 
>  
> 
> also big thanks again to wekea for being the beta and sounding board for this!!

_ then _

Changkyun was barely older than 10, maybe younger, when his father first brought him down to the slave training area. While Ulleungdo’s wealth came from minerals and craftsmanship, and not the slave trade like Jeonjaengteo, Ulleungdo’s elite kept and trained slaves. It was an important part of higher society.

Slaves, for the most part, were kept in a compound next to the stables. This was the appropriate place for such creatures according to Changkyun’s father. The beasts living with beasts. Changkyun never particularly thought of horses as beasts, but he knew better than to say anything to his father. The compound was enclosed by a high wall, topped with ornate metalwork and spikes, reflecting the sun even on cloudy days. Inside were three large dorms surrounding the main training area. All slaves lived in one of the dorms, unless they were a part of the Royal Harem. Each dorm was separated different functions for the slaves, every slave living with other slaves who performed the same function as them.

_ “We’re not monsters,”  _ Changkyun’s mother had delicately told him.  _ “We want them to build friendships. Just. Not anything else.” _

Changkyun had never been in the compound before, much less the training center, but that was where his father led him and Junmyeon now. They walked through halls and halls of closed off doors, sometimes sounds leaked out and Changkyun remembered feeling himself fill with dread. Junmyeon nudged him in the shoulder when they passed the wing for pleasure slaves. Changkyun blushed immediately.

The King led Junmyeon and Changkyun down into the pit where three figures waited. Changkyun felt a distinctly crawling sensation in his stomach as they approached. He wanted to reach out and take his father’s hand, but knew, had been told, that he was too old to be holding people’s hands. Changkyun sucked on his lips and clasped his hands together, eyes darting around the room. 

In the center was a man, forced to kneel by two guards. He looked weak, like even if he wanted to fight back, he didn’t have the muscle mass or stature to overpower either of the guards. Changkyun watched as his father removed his outer robes, beautiful embroidered linen and silk, folded and placed off to the side. The King strode into the dirt pit to a table not too far from the kneeling slave and examine the different tools on top of it. Junmyeon laid an arm across Changkyun’s shoulders and gave him  what he must have intended to be a comforting squeeze, but it only amplified the crawling in Changkyun’s stomach.

Watching the King eventually pick up a long reed and smacking against his palm a couple times, made Changkyun to yell, wanted to stop his father. Whatever this slave did, it couldn’t warrant such a harsh punishment. 

“Lady Jung told me she caught you stealing,” the King said, voice completely monotone. The slave visibly flinched. “You’re one of mine. You know that kind of behavior isn’t allowed.”

The first strike caused Changkyun to jump. Junmyeon’s hand held him firm in his spot, but he did pull Changkyun closer to him. Each strike resounded through Changkyun’s body. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands shaking at his side. It was comforting to have his brother at his side, but why did he have to witness at all?

Changkyun had already trained his own pony, had watched his brother train a wild filly. None of what he had to do then was as cruel as what his father was doing now. One of the stablehands had told Changkyun that his pony would listen better if he traded his crop for a carrot. Why wasn’t it the same with the slaves? Weren’t they like the ponies and horses in the stables nextdoor?

Changkyun couldn’t remember how long it went on for. Junmyeon said it was barely two minutes, but Changkyun firmly believed it was longer than that. After a while the cries from the slave ceased and it was only the sharp crack of the reed for much longer than Changkyun still would maintain was necessary. Changkyun only opened his eyes when Junmyeon removed his arm from around his shoulder. Without thinking, Changkyun reached out and grabbed Junmyeon’s hand. He couldn’t look without someone to hold onto, someone to reassure him that it’ll all be fine.

The King strode back over to the table and placed the reed back in its place. In the dirt the slave lay unmoving. Changkyun tried not to look, not to pay attention to the thin lines of blood all across the man’s back, but it was there and he couldn’t look away.

“And that’s how you handle beasts, sons,” the King said, still monotone. He cleaned off his hands and pulled his robes back on. Changkyun could barely see the blood splattered on his clothes and boots. “One day, Changkyun, you’ll train your very own slave and you’ll see. You’ll feel the pride of when they finally kneel to you.”

Changkyun opened his mouth. Closed it. He wanted to say, “I will never do this,” but instead he said, “Yes, Sire.”

 

***

 

_ now _

“Good. I look forward to it,” came Changkyun’s deep voice, a little breathy. Above him, Changkyun haggled with his parents and the guards. “I’ll oversee his training myself. We can’t  _ kill _ him--he’s a gift from  _ Tao _ . You know how Tao is.”

Kihyun stared up at the prince. He looked so young. So naive. And yet Kihyun saw something in the way the prince faced the possibility of death. Prince Changkyun wasn’t afraid of death. It looked more like Changkyun…didn’t care either way. If that was how Changkyun felt, Kihyun could use that. He could use that indifference in the prince to gain his freedom and return to Ichoyok. 

Kihyun laid pliant as the guards fixed him tighter chains. Thicker ones. Kihyun growled from behind his muzzle when they locked his arms beneath his chin. Kihyun really didn’t have any range of motion now, but he supposed that was the whole point. He had immediately attacked a member of the royal family, nevermind that Kihyun--

Well, Kihyun wasn’t royalty anymore.

No one knew that who he was, save for Heechul. Kihyun scanned the room, finding the spymaster leaning against a column. He met the other man’s eyes and watched as a grin spread across Heechul’s face.

One of the guards roughly pulled Kihyun upright, dagger pointed at Kihyun’s throat. Kihyun was tempted to make a comment, but remembered that people didn’t realize he understood Heunhan. Kihyun sneered, remembering how the few times he had been to Ulleungdo with his mother the people had treated them like they were less than dirt. Kihyun knew the only reason no one came to Ichoyok was because the mountains that surrounded their nation. 

Kihyun’s mind flickered back to his home. Yoongi had burned down their capital just to remove his older brother from power. Kihyun’s blood boiled and he fought against his chains, frustrated he had no other way to express himself. His movement caught the attention of the royal family. Changkyun stared with undisguised awe. 

“You really think you can train  _ that _ ,” the Crown Prince asked, fear and disgust marring his face. “He’s completely feral. No amount of training will fix him. He’ll never be a good slave.”

The Queen held Changkyun and the princess close to her, horrified at Kihyun’s growling. “Changkyun, he tried to kill you. It doesn’t matter if it was a gift from the Crown Prince. It’s not unreasonable to  _ reject-- _ ”

“Your Majesty, I most respectfully disagree.” Heechul’s voice rang out in the hall. The crowd parted for him and he dramatically approached the dias. He bowed deeply and Kihyun rolled his eyes. Such a drama queen. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, but I do believe if His Highness is determined to train this slave, you should let him. He could be a great addition once he’s been broken in a little.”

“Lord Kim. You speak out of turn,” the Queen snapped, grip closing on Princess Siyeon’s wrist. Siyeon winced and whined. Kihyun wondered if maybe Changkyun and Siyeon might be twins. Heechul hadn’t given him much information to go off of. “This was slave clearly was told to try and kill Prince Changkyun and  _ keeping _ it--”

“I’m  _ keeping _ the slave,” Changkyun snapped. His lower lip jutted out and it betrayed exactly how young the Prince actually was. His hands balled into fists and he pulled himself to his full height. Kihyun snorted; the Prince definitely did not have the presence Kihyun had been expecting. Changkyun huffed and glanced over to Kihyun. He bowed to his parents. “Please, Your Majesty. I want to form this slave into the perfect being for me. Lord Kim is right; he has potential.”

Changkyun straightened and for all his confidence, Kihyun watched how his hands fiddled with his robe’s sleeves, revealing how nervous he actually was. The King sighed and moved back to his throne. He waved to the guards and Kihyun found himself dragged to his feet. The King motioned to Changkyun. The young prince scrambled to kneel in front of his father, chest heaving, from shock settling in or nerves probably. 

Kihyun felt a flash of sympathy at the sight, remembering how it felt to have to kneel to a terrifying father. He thought about all the times Yoongi had to kneel in front of their father, all the times they knelt in front of him and the Council. All those times they had to explain their mistakes, beg for forgiveness.

Kihyun’s jaw tightened. All those times he thought had made him and his brother a better team clearly meant nothing if Yoongi so easily plotted behind his back. Kihyun looked over to the Crown Prince. He almost made Kihyun want to vomit, standing so prim and proper, the vision of a perfect Ulleungdo prince. He wondered if him and Changkyun were close the way Kihyun thought him and Yoongi were. 

The guards held him up since they had taken no chances and also chained Kihyun’s legs this time around. It wasn’t comfortable, but Kihyun was curious if Heechul and Changkyun’s interventions would be enough for him to live to see another day. The King regarded Kihyun with a harsh stare and Heechul raised an eyebrow at Kihyun, nodding slightly. Kihyun growled, playing up the anger he felt festering in his gut. 

_ Make them believe. You are a savage. Useless for anything other than brute labor or a good fuck. Your only value comes from your body. Your mind? Worthless. Less than dirt.  _

_ You’re an oddity for their amusement.  _

Kihyun tried to lunge forward and immediately spears pointed to him; one even pricked through his sheer robes to let a pearl of blood trickle. He threw his head back and laughed. So scared of him, even in chains. At least Kihyun had that still.

“Fine,” the King finally said, still eyeing Kihyun with obvious trepidation. “Train him. Break him. Turn him into whatever you want, son. But if he ever tries a stunt like what he did today.” The King paused to look back at his kneeling son, “I won’t hesitate to behead it and send it back to Jeonjaengteo with an embargo on all of their goods.”

Changkyun stood up quickly and bowed again. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll train him well, just like you taught me, I promise.”

 

***

 

Kihyun was thrown into a larger cell than the first one they put him in. His body shook and he was numb all over from the medicine they applied to his skin. He knew his body was probably going into shock and if he didn’t get warm he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand the next day.

His first beating was punishment for attacking the Prince. They tied him to a whipping pole and whipped Kihyun until he bled. That wasn’t enough though. After they finished punishing him for his first transgression, they moved on to his first training session.

Kihyun groaned and wrapped his arms tighter around him. Changkyun had been there, watching. He stood flanked by two men and barely watched for more than a few seconds at a time. But he stayed the whole time. Kihyun was too delirious with pain to be able to observe how his new master reacted, but Kihyun would not be surprised if Changkyun didn’t care.

The room spun as Kihyun tried to focus, tried to remember anything that might useful for his survival. He just knew that whatever training they’re about to give him would not be easy. He wanted to sleep on his back, but despite the numbness in his limbs he could still feel the burn deep in his back. At least he had a cot to sleep on instead of the floor or being suspended from the ceiling.

The heavy door creaked as it opened and someone shuffled in and dropped a bowl of thin stew onto the floor next to Kihyun's cot. Kihyun forced an eye open when they sat down on his cot. And there he sat.

“Heechul. Don't know how helpful I'm going to be right now,” Kihyun wheezed. Heechul laughed and picked up the bowl and shoved it towards Kihyun.

“I'm not expecting anything from you,” the Spymaster drawled. “Not yet, anyway. Now, eat. Miss Jung didn't cook this for you to reject it. Besides, there's something nice to help with the soreness tomorrow.”

The last thing Kihyun wanted was to sit up again, but he knew eating was the right decision. He pulled himself back up and took the bowl and attempted to eat. The stew was surprisingly good and Kihyun could feel strength returning almost immediately. 

“This is enchanted isn't it,” Kihyun asked. Heechul nodded in response and tilted the bowl more towards Kihyun.

“I'm taking a risk on you, don't forget that, Scion.” Heechul stood and brushed off whatever dust accumulated on his trousers. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow if you can make it through without cracking, it'll only get easier.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell about jealousy and destroyer at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/swsonyeondan) or [tumblr](http://seonweon-sonyeondan.tumblr.com/ask)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG ASS WARNINGS FOR VERY VERY DUBIOUS CONSENT IN THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER IF THAT TRIGGERS YOU OR BOTHERS YOU IN ANY WAY.

_ then _

At 13, Changkyun received his first personal slave. His father and brother brought him to the family harem to present it to him. She was soft and demure and absolutely beautiful. She couldn’t have been much older than the prince. Changkyun was immediately enthralled by her. She dropped her robe into a puddle of soft gauze at her feet when Changkyun approached, palms up in invitation.

But Changkyun couldn’t touch her.

His hands felt too clammy, too inexperienced to touch something as beautiful as her. The King laughed, his current favorite already choking on his cock. Junmyeon sat somewhere with his personal slave, too busy licking into his mouth to help guide his brother.

“Fuck her,” the King ordered. “That’s all she’s made for, son.”

Changkyun shuddered as his father kept his slave’s face buried in his groin. The slave just took it even though Changkyun was positive she couldn’t breathe. He turned back to his own slave, her soft curves and delicate features. She blinked at him innocently, eyes wide as she took a step forward.

“I don’t want to.” Changkyun’s voice shook as he watched her continue coming towards him. Everything about her looked too soft, too innocent to do what the King ordered. Changkyun looked wildly to his brother, hoping maybe Junmyeon would somehow sense his distress. But Junmyeon was still too busy with his own slave. 

Changkyun heard his father stand and his heavy footsteps approached his son. One of his hands still gripped his naked slave who crawled on her knees close behind him. Changkyun stared up at him. His father always seemed to tower, even if Changkyun was almost as tall as him now. Nothing seemed to bother him; even now with his robes in disarray and his trousers  open with his angry cock on display the King still seemed to hold all the power in the universe.

“Kneel,” he commanded to the slave girl. She obediently did so, eyes still wide. The King pushed Changkyun towards her. “Come, son. Are you embarrassed? Or are you like your brother? I chose her specifically for you.” Changkyun couldn’t respond; he kept looking from the girl kneeling in front of him to the one suckling quietly on his father’s cock. The King reached forward and grabbed the girl’s jaw. Her mouth opened easily, tongue poking out when the King’s thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “Tell me, girl, what is it that you want?”

The slave looked up at Changkyun through her lashes, hands curled on her lap. “I wish to please Prince Changkyun, Your Majesty.”

“See, son? Stop being a coward and man up.” His father shoved Changkyun even closer before returning to his couch. Changkyun could still feel his father’s eyes on him. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, his brother’s slave stood next to him, arm in arm with Junmyeon. 

“Go behind that curtain there,” Junmyeon said softly. His eyes were a little glassy, and Changkyun didn’t need to glance down to figure out why. “That way at least you can try to pretend we’re not here.”

“But you’ll still be able to see,” Changkyun muttered. The slave still knelt quietly in front of him. Her hands twitched, like even she was getting impatient with Changkyun. 

“It’s a beautiful rite of passage, brother. We all get to bear witness to you becoming a man,” Junmyeon replied. He leaned in closer, dragging Changkyun towards the sectioned off part of the room. Junmyeon whispered close to Changkyun’s ear, “Just do it, Kyun. Father will beat her if you don’t. You’ll never have to do this again, but for her sake, let her do what she was bought to do.”

Changkyun gulped down the bile that began to rise to his throat at what his brother told him. He looked back at the girl. Her face was serious which only confirmed what Junmyeon said for Changkyun.

“F-father, if I may? I’d--I’d prefer at least a little bit of privacy?”

“Fine,” the King grunted as he continued to fuck into his slave. “But if she doesn’t please you, I’ll find you another.”  

“Y-you’re most kind, father,” Changkyun muttered as he led the girl behind the curtain. It really didn’t shield them from much, but at least Changkyun couldn’t see his father and his almost limp slave anymore. 

The girl sat down on the large chaise and spread her legs wide to reveal a perfectly smooth pussy. Changkyun stumbled over and knelt between her legs. He had no idea what he should do. He supposed he should be aroused, should feel compelled or  _ something _ by the sight in front of him. Changkyun tried to calm himself. He tried to push all thoughts of his father and his brother from his mind and focus on the girl in front of him. 

“Is something still wrong, Your Highness?” The girl shifted her legs so they were now propped up by her bottom. She trailed a hand along her inner thighs to her labia. Everything about her suggested openness and willingness, but when Changkyun made eye contact, he saw nothing but resignation.

Changkyun swallowed and leaned forward so they wouldn’t be heard. “I--I don’t know what to do.”

“Shall I suck you off? Will that make you hard?”

Changkyun swallowed again and leaned back to take another look at her. Her skin was smooth save for the brand between her breasts that marked her as one of the royal slaves. Changkyun delicately traced over the raised skin before moving a hand to one of her breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ll try to make this…nice.”

She sighed softly as he continued to palm at her breasts. One of her hands went to Changkyun’s trousers and took his soft cock in her hand. Changkyun groaned and flushed red when he heard his father chuckle from the otherside of the curtain.

“Please, focus on me, Your Highness,” the slave whispered. She pulled Changkyun close to her face and kissed him. Changkyun didn’t react, too terrified to move. “Please. Please, I’ll make it believable.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll--I’ll do my best.” Changkyun pulled away and stripped himself of his clothing. He was half hard because of her attention, but it didn’t feel like him. Like it was acting of its own accord. When Changkyun turned his attention back to the slave girl, she had propped herself onto all fours and one hand had parted the lips as she quickly pumped a finger inside herself.

“Please, Your Highness, please, give me your cock,” she cried when Changkyun approached. It sent a shiver down Changkyun’s spine; the cry was convincing, but he knew that she, like him, just wanted this over with.

Changkyun squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of her pussy. “You’re. You’re warm. And wet.”

“Just for you, master,” she replied breathily, but her expression remained neutral. Bile threatened to make its way back up to Changkyun’s throat, but he swallowed deeply and pushed slowly into her. Her back arched and she let out a sigh. “Yes, like that. Fuck me deep, Your Highness.”

Changkyun pulled out and pressed back in again, breath catching as his hips met her ass. “Great Sangje, you feel incredible.” The girl laughed a little, before moving her hips back and forth, fucking herself on Changkyun’s cock. Changkyun had experimented a little, had touched himself out of curiosity and necessity before. But this was so much better. He felt how her muscles tightened around him and it felt like nothing Changkyun had ever experienced. If this was under some other circumstance, Changkyun might’ve enjoyed this.

He felt pressure building in his gut, a feeling he was passingly familiar with. The slave girl moaned loudly, encouraging Changkyun to go faster, to fuck her harder. Changkyun gripped her ass in his hands and whimpered. “I think I’m close,” Changkyun somehow managed to call out. Her movements sped up, pussy tightening like a vice around Changyun’s already sensitive dick.

The sound of the curtain being ripped back startled Changkyun. With a loud yelp, Changkyun came, spilling all over the back of the slave’s thighs. He collapsed onto the floor, feeling boneless. Two pairs of strong hands pulled Changkyun to his feet. Changkyun’s vision blurred; it wasn’t until the King laughed did he realize that he was crying. 

“Pussy so good you’re crying, son?” the King asked, sounding far too smug. “I’m proud of you. Look at her, you’ve worn her out.” His father’s slave emotionlessly handed Changkyun a robe before helping the girl into her robes as well. “Girl, you were worth every penny. Get up and bring the prince back to his quarters. Service him again before you take your leave.”

The girl curtsied deeply before waiting to follow Changkyun back to his room. Neither could look at the other as Changkyun’s bodyguard and valet escorted them. The large bath in Changkyun’s room was already filled when they arrived. The girl helped him out of his robe before stripping. They silently lowered themselves into the hot water. Changkyun made no move to get closer to the girl. Instead he curled up into a ball and started shaking. 

He didn’t understand why he felt so awful, so vulnerable, but not in a way that felt freeing. Changkyun felt like someone had grabbed him by his genitals and disemboweled him. He scrubbed at his skin as tears began to stream down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m--I didn’t want--But if I didn’t he would’ve. I’m so sorry. Gods, I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Yerim,” the slave girl replied. “It’s alright. You treated me with kindness when you could have decided to not care.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better. It--I feel so terrible--”

Yerim splashed water into Changkyun’s face, effectively shutting him up. “If you’ll forgive me, Your Highness, but you did what was best in that situation. I don’t hold you responsible. And now you won’t have to do that to me ever again.”

 

_ now _

“Yerim,” Changkyun called quietly. His bodyguard stepped closer, face expressionless as they watch the training going on below. “Do you think he’ll break?”

“The savage, sir?” Changkyun nodded in reply. “Certainly not. His spirit is unbreakable.”

“That’s what I was worried about.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for implied physical violence

_ now _

The training ground had been cleaned, like it always was. There were small groups of three or four spread about the area; some were being trained as bodyguards, others as servants or general helping hands. But the group Changkyun was watching was made up of two young girls, probably 11 or 12, and his slave. Unlike the young girls, he was still bound. His hands still shackled tightly, but the muzzle was gone and Changkyun could begin to make out his features better.

Behind Changkyun’s sete, his valet and two personal bodyguards stood. He heard Minhyuk whispering to Hyunwoo while Yerim stood closer to Changkyun. Changkyun kept shifting nervously in his seat, picking at the embroidery decorating the sash around his belt as he watched his slave repeatedly be beaten.

“Does Your Highness believe he is stubborn or just stupid?” Yerim asked blandly. Changkyun could hear the amusement and exasperation in her voice. He lifted his binoculars up to so he could see more clearly. Changkyun winced when one of the instructors kicked the slave’s ankle. He dropped to his knees and let out a harsh growl when the instructor raised her hand to slap the slave. The other two slaves stood and watched in horror. 

“The Tailor barely did anything to this one,” came Minhyuk’s voice. He came to sit awkwardly on the arm of Changkyun’s sete. If anyone else was present, Changkyun would reprimand his valet for being overly familiar, but Minhyuk knew most of Changkyun’s secrets and frequently provided him with actually useful advice. “I don’t think she even branded him, but I can’t really tell with all those… _ markings _ on his skin.”

“Forgive my bluntness, but I believe someone is fucking with you, Your Highness.” Yerim moved to flank Changkyun as they all watched the instructors showed the trainee slaves how to properly prepare for an evening with their masters. Changkyun’s slave barely paid any attention to how the instructors coated their fingers with oil and inserted them into a model. Instead, the slave looked around before his eyes landed on Changkyun and his attendants. 

When the slave stared straight at him, Changkyun shuddered. For a moment Changkyun dropped his binoculars so he could take some steadying breaths. When he raised them back to his eyes, a smirk slowly spread across the slave’s face, distorting the ornamental scars along his cheekbones. How he was able to find Changkyun, even behind the slits in the screen that blocked them from view, Changkyun didn’t know. But he held eye contact with Changkyun and lifted his thumb to the corner of his eye and dragged it down his cheeks. As his hand moved down, the slave opened his mouth, baring his teeth in a terrifying sort of grimace-scream. It reminded Changkyun a lot of one of the demon masks the Players wore, but oddly attractive.

Minhyuk sucked in a breath from next to Changkyun and both Hyunwoo and Yerim moved to block Changkyun. “Please, I doubt he can do anything to me from here,” Changyun tried to appease. Hyunwoo shook his head and stood his ground, gichang coming to further block Changkyun. Changkyun really hoped that this slaved couldn’t do anything to him from where he was down below. “His ankles are still shackled, really there’s no need to be so protective.”

“Sir, are you forgetting that this slave has  _ already _ made an attempt on your life? But your royal boner could not be contained to the point that you  _ actually allowed him to continue living?” _ Minhyuk whispered, tone shrill. The slave had still not looked away from Changkyun, thumb now hooked under his lower lip, pulling down to reveal that the tattoo on his chin extended into his mouth. “If the  _ Tailor--” _

“If the Tailor left him wild, there has to be a reason,” interrupted Changkyun. He finally broke eye contact with the slave and turned to valet and bodyguards. “She’s far too proud to not have put this slave through his paces before he left her care.” Changkyun turned back to the lesson below. The trainee slaves were being led through the proper etiquette to serve their masters’ tea. Changkyun’s slave followed along easily, executing the act with practiced ease. The instructors nodded and sighed happily. They moved onto how personal slaves were expected to sit during banquets. The other two trainees sat easily, kneeling and sitting on their calves. The male slave scoffed and refused to kneel again. Changkyun watched as the instructors once again struck him with crops, forcing the slave to kneel. Once he fell to the ground, the slave arranged himself perfectly. He snapped at the crop of one of the instructors when it got too close. “He’s wild, but a civilized wild.”

Changkyun drummed his fingers on his thighs and ran through all the usual peoples the Jeonjaengteo source for their slave trade. He knew that they bred their own for the most part, only supplementing from debtors or war prisoners as a last resort. But Changkyun had not heard of a recent skirmish between Jeonjangteo and another nation. And there was definitely no way this slave had been sold to settle a debt. Changkyun had never seen someone so heavily tattooed and scarred. He frowned; did the slave have a name or had they made him relinquish his name? It was common with war prisoners to force them to give up their names. But was this man a former war prisoner? Everything seemed to point to this being the most likely answer. Maybe Changkyun should have Minhyuk look into it. 

Changkyun wanted a closer look at his slave. One preferably where he didn’t need to fear for his life. Changkyun would not deny his attraction to the slave; no one could deny his beauty and the air of danger that quite literally cloaked the slave drew Changkyun in further. The slave hadn’t uttered a single thing that could be considered a word since his arrival, but it was clear he understood what he was being ordered to do. Changkyun needed to know more.

“Minhyuk, request a viewing with my slave after his training today.”

“Sir, is that such a good idea?”

“I’m not asking for your opinion, Minhyuk, I’m giving you an order,” Changkyun replied and shot an annoyed glare to his valet. “You, Yerim, and Hyunwoo will all attend to me. If you’re really so worried, request extra guards.”

His attendants’ unease was difficult to ignore, but Changkyun was determined. His mother always said Siyeon was the rowdy, curious twin, but Siyeon would agree that Changkyun had his fair share of mishaps due to curiosity. He needed to get closer, needed to begin showing his slave that he would be a good master to him. A stern, but kind master, like his brother. Nothing like his father.

Nervous energy made Changkyun fidget more than he normally did as they observed the final hour of training. Each trainee was given a personal toy, one to help them practice the kind of acts they would be performing for their masters. Changkyun’s slave had no reaction when given his; he just held onto the wooden dildo with an impassive expression on his face. Changkyun grimaced, remembering what his father said of male slaves,  _ “Why would you want a male slave? Females have more holes, son. When one gets tired you still have two more.” _

The instructors also handed all of them jugs of oil for them to use while practicing. The slave inspected his closely, inserting his fingers. He seemed to be testing the thickness of the substance. He dragged his fingers through the oil and when he pulled them out, he stared intensely at how slowly it dripped from his fingers. Changkyun watched as he coated the wooden dildo in his other hand before lifting it to his mouth. His gaze sought out Changkyun again as he licked the tip of the dildo. Changkyun shuddered, thinking about what it would be like to have that pink, pink, pink tongue licking up his hard cock. His slave then took the tip into his mouth, swirled his tongue around it, and then bit down. Changkyun nearly fell over and the slave cackled from below. Yerim burst into laughter next to Changkyun while Minhyuk clutched to Hyunwoo’s bicep and tried to stifle his own laughter.

“Say what you will about my time as your personal slave, Sir,” Yerim managed between laughter, “at least I never threatened to bite your dick off.”

Changkyun smacked her arm and pointed a finger in her face. “You’re lucky it’s just us. That’d get you beaten and then thrown in an isolation cell for a week if anyone else overheard.”

“Overheard what, Your Highness?”

Changkyun winced and glared at his bodyguard who simply bowed to the newcomers. Heechul and his assistant, Jooheon, stood in the doorway. Minhyuk immediately stood a little straighter and approached the pair to greet them.

“Lord Kim, Master Lee, what a pleasant surprise. Do you have business with His Highness?” Minhyuk bowed slightly to each man as he greeted them, earning a nod from each in return. Jooheon’s eyes followed Minhyuk as he moved back to his position next to Changkyun. Changkyun would have to ask his childhood friend about when he’d finally work up the nerve to ask his annoying valet out.

“Ah, we came to see if the slave’s progress pleased His Highness,” Jooheon said, bowing to Changkyun. “We also received word that His Highness would be pleased if he was able to inspect his new toy further. Lord Kim and I came to help oversee that meeting, if it pleases His Highness.” Jooheon bowed again, holding it a little longer at his lowest point. 

“It would please me, yes,” Changkyun replied, already tired of formalities. “Please, I have known Lord Kim and Master Lee since I was still being swaddled. We don’t need to be as formal.”

Heechul exaggerated his next bow, sweeping a hand across his waist and the other out behind him, the way Consort Jinyoung did from time to time. “Your infinite kindness astounds, Your Excellency.” Heechul grinned toothily at the prince when he straightened up. “I was there when they originally brought him in, Sir, and heard some whispers about his origins.”

Yerim sniffed disapprovingly. “If I may be so bold, but be careful, Lord Kim. One day those whispers may be your undoing.”

“If whispers were harmful, all the grannies in the land and all the palace kitchen staff would be hung, girl.” There was no malice in Heechul’s tone, but Changkyun knew better than to believe that he was not judging Yerim for her comments. “You should know better than to speak ill of your betters.” Heechul stood tall and looked down at the slave girl. Yerim squared her jaw, eyes narrowed and hard before she bowed low.

“My apologies, Lord Kim.” Yerim’s jaw was still tight and Changkyun was no fool. Yerim had never been silent on her distrust for the older man. Changkyun didn’t see what she saw, but knew better than to completely ignore his bodyguard’s intuition. Heechul had an eyebrow raised, arms crossed, but then he delicately flicked his wrist and sighed dramatically.

“If you’re not careful, someone might put in a recommendation for your retraining.” Heechul gestured to the center of the training area where a row of slaves were chained to large wooden pillars. They had been flogged for a better part of half an hour, with medical attendants stepping in every so often to heal them so they may continue punishment. “I know I’m just a court gossip, but my whispers get me such juicy information. And I hope it will prove useful for our dear Prince,” Heechul said. He moved closer to the railing and the screens and stared down at the slaves below. “Apparently he was captured fleeing a fire. The Tailor told Consort Jinyoung that she believes he’s probably from warrior tribe living in the mountains on their border.”

“Anyone can see he’s a warrior, Lord Kim,” Changkyun sighed. “I don’t see how that information is new or useful.”

“Sir, he’s from a  _ warrior _ tribe only recently discovered,” Heechul emphasized. “Consort Jinyoung said the Tailor had never seen tattoos or scars like his before.”

“Prince Changkyun, I think what my mentor is trying to say,” interjected Jooheon, “is that this slave is remarkable. No one is sure where he’s from. He may be wild, Sir, but he will certainly instill awe when he is beside you.”

Changkyun nodded, eyes still on his slave. He was being lead away, collar around his neck that his cuffs were also attached to. His jug had been strung up around his neck, dildo clutched in his hands. He did strike an imposing and proud figure. “Yerim,” Changkyun called quietly. His bodyguard stepped closer, face expressionless as they watched the slave exit. “Do you think he’ll break?”

“The savage, sir?” Changkyun nodded in reply. “Certainly not. His spirit is unbreakable.”

“That’s what I was worried about.”

Heechul scoffed, and waved off Yerim. “Breaking him is not the  _ goal _ , Your Highness. You should only be concerned with getting him to trust you enough that you can use him.”

Even Jooheon seemed taken aback by Heechul’s statement. Changkyun stood up then to look Heechul directly in the eye. “Are you suggesting I use him? To manipulate him so thoroughly that--”

“What do you think they’re doing down there?” Heechul pressed. “The beatings aren’t just to remind them of their place, Your Highness. It makes them forget about ever thinking of going against their masters, to  _ make _ them crave a kind touch. Only the ones who weren’t raised in bondage resist like him.” Heechul gestured to the slaves that were still tied to the pillars, still bleeding as medical attendants saw to their wounds. “The ones that step out of line forget where they belong. The best way for a master to protect his slaves is to remind them as frequently as possible.”

“I’m not that kind of master, Lord Heechul,” Changkyun forced out through gritted teeth. “You know I don’t treat my slaves like my father. Discipline is necessary, but not like that.”

“I’m aware, Your Highness.” Heechul shrugged and turned towards the door. “But for a slave like that, be ready to use force and wits to get what you want from him.”

“I assure you, Lord Heechul, that I will make sure he knows his place.” Changkyun pushed past the noble and began walking down towards where the personal slaves were kept. Jooheon and Minhyuk walked a couple steps behind, and Changkyun could hear them whispering to each other. Hyunwoo lead and Yerim walked in the back. Heechul walked beside Changkyun and tries to lay a hand on Changkyun’s forearm. He jerked away from the touch and huffed when Heechul looked offended. “I do not believe in beating my slaves, Lord Heechul. Yerim can attest to that. Why should I breed resentment with someone I intend to keep so close? I would have to kill them all once I was finished with them.”

“That isn’t an unheard of practice,” Heechul breezily replied. Changkyun grimaced and shook his head. “Unsavory, I agree. But, Prince Changkyun, please. Understand where I’m coming from. We don’t know the customs of this slave. We don’t even know if he  _ speaks _ .”

“He’s  _ civilized _ , Lord Heechul. He knows most of the proper etiquette and he holds himself like--” Changkyun searched through his memories to try and find someone who held themselves the way this slave did. “He acts like a noble who isn’t unaccustomed to war.”

“Then he’s even more dangerous.” Heechul put his hands behind his back as they continued to walk. “But you’ve always liked them with a little bit of danger.”

The way Heechul said it, so calm like he was just mentioning the weather, made Changkyun’s spine go rigid. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Heechul hummed, eyes glinting like a fox that had cornered its prey. The quarters weren’t far now. Just a little further down this hall and the next right will bring them to the reception area. Changkyun could picture the plush seats already. He sped up, hoping to get there sooner. Heechul laughed to himself and matched Changkyun’s pace.

“It was only an observation.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was,” snapped Changkyun. Heechul didn’t usually make him feel so uneasy, but something about his self-assured slime was more off-putting than usual for Changkyun. There, at the end of the hall. The reception area. Hyunwoo opened the door for the group. The main attendants bowed deeply when he entered.

“Your Highness. Are you here to see your newest addition?” The Mother Superior approached them. Her eyes landed on Yerim, who bowed low to her former teacher and guardian. “He is quite exhausted from today’s lessons, but if you wish to simply meet with him, we can arrange that.”

“Yes, thank you, Mother. I only wish to get to know him better.” Changkyun bowed his head in a show of respect. She smiled and lead him down the hall, towards to where the newer royal personal slaves were housed. As they walked, the sounds of pleasure surrounded them. He swallowed deeply as they approached a room further in the back. The Mother Superior bowed and opened the door.

Changkyun, Yerim, Hyunwoo, and Minhyuk stepped into the large room. When Heechul and Jooheon tried to follow, Yerim slammed the door in their faces, locking it behind her.

“So,” Changkyun began, “where shall we start?” 

**Author's Note:**

> this is only going to get darker, angstier, and way more violent. also dont expect each update to be this long. i am a Slow Writer with a Life™ and will likely only be updating with short updates.
> 
> as always you can come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/swsonyeondan) or [tumblr](http://seonweon-sonyeondan.tumblr.com/ask)


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